


My Heart in Your Hands

by TheSparrow93



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Pain, Some Fluff, loss of limb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 16:57:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13617669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSparrow93/pseuds/TheSparrow93
Summary: [trigger warnings for losing a limb]. daryl gets bit and jesus has to cut his arm off without the painkillers (and maybe some additional angst bc daryl can't use his crossbow one-handed)-----------It was barely an inch above his wrist where the teeth sunk in, skin breaking and tearing as Daryl yanked back.





	My Heart in Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [desushoard (tenderanglerfish)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderanglerfish/gifts).



> Well, I can honestly say this was one of the toughest things I have ever written but I always say I will write anything. I hope you like this and it is anything like what you were looking for. It was an honor to write this for you!

"What's your blood type?" 

Daryl blinked his eyes open at the question, "Hmm?" 

Daryl didn't mind that Paul sat up later than him reading one thing or another but he was usually quiet while doing it. Paul shifted behind Daryl where the older man was laying on his side, "What is your blood type?" 

Daryl sighed turning on his back, "Baby, is this for one of those quizzes ya like in the teenage girl magazines ya keep insisting on picking up?" 

"No," Paul grinned, the sound of rustling paper loud as he stashed the mag at his side, "Maybe. Come on babe, humor me." 

Daryl eyed him through a squint, "B positive." 

"Thanks, me too." Paul pulled the magazine back out eyes bouncing over whatever the page had to say about that. 

"Great," Daryl yawned turning back over, "We're a perfect match." 

Daryl snorted when the thin pages smacked him over the side of his head as Paul chuckled. 

\---------------------- 

Paul hummed softly as he woke up. The soothing feeling of calloused fingers running through his hair had brought him into consciousness. A warm weight was pressed to his back as his hair was smoothed back from his face and petted. 

"Love your hands so much." Paul sighed wiggling back as Daryl leaned down to press a kiss behind his ear. 

"Jus my hands?" Daryl murmured as Paul reached up tugging the hand out of his hair. 

Paul opened his eyes, tracing his fingers over the rough flesh of Daryl's palm. They were very different from his thin and nimble hands, Daryl's thick and rough. Stronger than any other Paul had ever known, stronger than Paul's own if the man ever got a really good grip. They were so gentle though, Daryl kept most of his touches light and sweet. 

Paul looked over the scarred knuckles and tan weathered skin. Running his finger tip over blunt nails then down the length of the fourth finger. The silver band there was a match for the one on Paul's own left hands. They hadn't made a show of it, no ceremony or party. Eugene had been more than happy to make the rings, even shedding a tear that left them both uncomfortable. They had slipped them on some months ago and there they had stayed ever since. 

"Hmmm," Paul put on like he was thinking about it, "You have a really nice dick too." 

There was a long pause, Paul biting his lip as Daryl took a deep breath, "Ya ain't cute." 

"You love me." Paul snicker turned into a shout as Daryl's hand broke free and shot down to his belly. 

Paul cursed how strong Daryl's hands really were as his fingers tickled over Paul's sensitive skin with a growl. Soon the bed was a tangle and Paul was exhausted from screaming in laughter. Daryl was leaning on his elbows over him, face equally red and Paul leaned up kissing his flushed cheek, "I do love all of you." 

Daryl smiled, butting their foreheads together, "I know." 

"Okay, Han Solo, let's get up." Paul wiggled free, Daryl's confused face was just too cute but Paul was not explaining the reference. 

\------------------------------------- 

Daryl started the car and glanced over at Paul with a sigh, "Seriously?" 

"What?" Paul looked up from the magazine he was reading, eyes wide with fake innocence. 

"Yer a teenager girl." Daryl snorted pulling the car up to the gate of Alexandria, Tara opening it for them before waving them off. 

"This, I'll have you know, is a Cosmo and it's for adult girls." Paul sniffed turning back to his reading material. 

Daryl laughed and figured the guy needed something to keep him preoccupied. They were going on a run for medical supplies, something that was always in short supply. There was always a need for pain killers or antibiotics after all. Daryl reached over turning the radio up, he didn't know what CD was in but it didn't matter much so long as it wasn't Rick's damn country music. 

They got about an hour out when he turned off the highway into a town he had never been to before. Paul set his magazine down, taking in their surroundings. A few miles into town was a small strip mall kind of deal and at the end was a pharmacy. Daryl stopped the car at the entrance to the strip and looked over at Paul, "What ya think? It might've already been looted." 

Paul looked around, not seeing any immediate threats, "It's worth a shot." 

Daryl nodded slowly rolling the car in and down in front of the doors to the pharmacy. The place was eerily silent but so were most towns now, walkers wandering out in search for food. Paul reached into the back seat and grabbed his and Daryl's packs, unzipping them so they were easier to fill if needed. Paul paused looking into Daryl's bag, "Why do you have this?" 

Daryl watched Paul pulled an axe out, Rick's axe and Daryl shrugged, "Broke the last crowbar a few weeks ago and the thing opens most door one way or another." 

Paul blinked before dropping it back into the bag with a grin, "You're so smart." 

"Ya love it." Daryl smirked before climbing out of the car and Paul followed. 

They quietly walked up to the door that wasn't boarded up but it was locked. Daryl rapped on the glass, both of them squinting through the dirty windows. There was no movement they could see or hear. Daryl shouldered his bow and dug the axe free, wedging the blade into the slit of the door beside the lock. One quick jerk and the door was open, Daryl grinning as he tossed the axe back in his bag making Paul shake his head. 

Paul pulled a knife free as Daryl lifted his bow and they carefully entered. The shelves looked fairly intact but the first thing they noticed was the area in the back they stored the meds was open and bare. They glanced at each other and shrugged, someone had beat them to best loot but they had left everything else behind. Daryl moved to the over the counter pills, they could settle on Advil and Nyquil from here. 

"If they took everything, why lock up behind yourself?" Paul whispered as he tossed gauze and bandages into his own bag. 

"Habit?" Daryl shrugged moving to the aisle Paul was on, helping him take the Neosporin and Icy Hot off the shelves, "We'll drive around and see if this is the only drug store in this town or not." 

Paul nodded when a bang against one of the closed doors at the back of the store made them pause. Daryl moved over to it quickly, the knob proved to be locked and Paul breathed, "Let just get out of here, babe." 

Daryl nodded, it didn't sound like more than one and not worth the effort. They hurried to the front door, neither of them prepared when they walked out the door and a walker screeched right in Paul's ear. It had been drawn by the sounds they had made it seemed, the door being placed right at the end of the store front made it hard to see around the edge of the building. The walker had been right there when Paul stepped out. 

Paul ducked away from the sound of gnashing teeth, a heavy hand landing on his shoulder as Daryl shouted, "Paul!" 

It was like slow motion, Daryl gripping his shoulder moving his neck out of the line of broken teeth and a tan forearm right into it. It was barely an inch above his wrist where the teeth sunk in, skin breaking and tearing as Daryl yanked back. Paul moved on instinct, the knife in his hand burying to the walker's temple as its red stained mouth smacked for more. 

"Daryl?" Paul's voice shook as Daryl stumbled back into the pharmacy and the corpse hit the ground with a dull thud. 

"Fuck! Fuck, shit, no." Daryl flung down his bow, fighting to open his bag. His hands were slick with blood and he dropped the axe with a loud clang that had Paul snapping into action. 

"Get your belt off," Paul snatched the axe up and Daryl whipped the leather from around his waist, looping around his own left bicep, "We have to hurry." 

Daryl grunted with a nod and Paul helped him tighten the belt, pulling his trench coat off and yanking his linen shirt off. They needed something to stop the bleeding and Paul had a thin tee shirt on underneath that he now pulled this coat back over. Paul dug out an Ace bandage out of his bag that he could use to help secure everything. 

Daryl was gasping for breath, a sweat broken out on his forehead as he laid his arm over the counter with a register on it. He locked eyes with Paul and tried to smile to hide the clear panic he was in, "Ready?" 

Paul looked at the mangled, purpling skin of Daryl's forearm as the man clenched his fist. It had only been a moment or two, the infection couldn't have spread far yet but there was a worse threat. Daryl could bleed out and doing this would've been for nothing but they had to try. Daryl was shaking worse than Paul had ever seen but he was asking him if he was ready and it was so ridiculous. Paul smiled back with a nod and raised the axe, clenching the handle tight to stop his hand from shaking. 

The blade came down half way down his forearm just a few inches over the bite. It didn't go clean through, Daryl yelling but not moving as Paul swung again then one more time. The sound of Daryl's pained voice rang in Paul's ear with the wet cracking sound of bone and muscle being severed. The axe buried into the counter top and Paul rushed to get his shirt over the pouring stump. Daryl was awake but now in a silent shock as Paul tied the linen as tight as he could, the white already staining red as he got the bandaged secured tight. 

Paul wrapped his arm around Daryl's shaking back, grabbing the axe and refusing to look any further at what laid on the counter. Daryl was dragging his feet, making high pained sounds as Paul got him into the car. Paul sprinted around to the driver side, starting the car with his bloody fingers slipping over the key. He put the car in drive, Daryl had doubled over in the seat with his arm pressed into his stomach. 

"Daryl?" Paul could hear how high his own voice was. Daryl didn't speak, probably couldn't but he nodded shakily to show he was still there. 

Paul figured that was more than enough as he slammed the gas petal down. They were almost an hour out but Paul planned to make it to Hilltop in no more than thirty minutes. 

\------------------------------- 

Paul laid on the horn as he sped up the drive for Hilltop, Daryl had passed out just a mile from the turn off and Paul couldn't tell if he was breathing. Paul drummed his fingers on the wheel, eyes jumping from the road over to the limply slumped man. The gates opened and Paul came to a skidding halt right in front of Carson's trailer. There was shouting everywhere, confusion from his sudden and loud arrival. 

Paul didn't evet turn off the car, just shoved it in park before turning to his husband. Paul carefully leaned him back, the shirt and bandaged almost black with blood but Daryl's chest was jerkily still moving. His skin was pale and clammy but not ashen like a walker's as Paul felt his pulse. Then Paul was out of the car, running around as Carson came out of his trailer with Alex and Maggie came running from the House. 

"Jesus?" It was a chorus of his name but Paul just yanked the passenger door open and turned to Carson. 

"Daryl was bit, help me!" Carson nearly leapt down the stairs to his trailer as Paul struggled to get the larger man out of the car. 

"How long ago?" Carson helped him get the unconscious archer out, gasping as he took in the state of his arm, "You amputated the bite area?" 

Paul nodded, the sight of the blade cutting through Daryl's limb burned into his mind, "Had to, about thirty-five minutes ago." 

Alex helped them get Daryl into the trailer and on a bed. Maggie running in behind them and shutting the door. Paul didn't know what to do, where to stand to not be in the way but he wasn't asked to move from where he lingered by Daryl's head. It was a flurry of motion, Alex was checking Daryl's pulse and blood pressure as Carson carefully unwrapped the Ace bandage and shirt. 

"Oh my god." Maggie whispered as the stump came into view. 

"You did a good job, Jesus, a very clean amputation." Paul didn't want to be praised for that as Carson looked it all over. 

"He's going to need blood." Alex was hooking up an IV and pumping syringe after syringe into it. Morphine and antibiotics making Daryl's breathing even out almost instantly now that the pain was dulled. 

"He can have mine, we're the same blood type." Alex didn’t hesitate to take a pint and Maggie had the same type so he took some from her too. 

It had been almost an hour of Carson closing the wound and wrapping it tightly. Alex got the transfusion going as Paul watched Daryl breathe slowly on the bed, skin still just as pale and sweat soaked. Paul ran his fingers through Daryl's greasy hair, "Is he going to be okay?" 

Carson and Alex shared a glance before the doctor sighed deeply, "It's a waiting game from here. Over the next twenty-four hours we'll see if he gets a fever or if you two acted quickly enough, which it looks like you did. He lost a lot of blood and may need another transfusion. Or if he'll even wake up after such a trauma. Basically, we have to wait and see what happens." 

Paul nodded taking in the words, Maggie's hand resting on his back. They had been really quick, not even three minutes had passed from the bite to them leaving and the infection couldn't have been that fast. Daryl did look like death warmed over but he just got a limb chomped off. Paul could still hear the panic in Daryl's voice with the clatter of something hitting the floor. Paul blinked glancing around as he remembered. 

"Jesus?" Maggie followed Paul as he left the trailer without a word. 

Someone had turned off the car but not moved it so Paul was in the driver's seat in seconds. Maggie grabbed the door before it slammed, "Jesus! Where are you going?" 

Paul blinked up at her as he started the engine, "I have to go back for something." 

"Do you think it's a good idea to leave now?" Maggie spoke softly, like Paul was in shock or something, which maybe he was, "What if something happens? What if he slips away?" 

"I can't do anything to help, I already opened a vein but I can't do anything else," Paul gripped the wheel with one hand, "If that happens me being here won't change it but if...but when he wakes up I don't want to be here without this thing we left." 

Maggie's lip quivered as she thought his words over, "I'll come with you." 

"No, Maggie," Paul reached out, squeezing her hand, "I need you here with him, take care of him until I get back. I'll go get Rick and the others on my way back. I won’t be but about an hour, I promise." 

Maggie didn't look like she was alright with this but she nodded slowly. She stepped back letting Paul close his door. The gates were open by the time Paul got turned around and he sped back out of Hilltop. 

\--------------------------------------- 

Paul eyed the gas hand as he pulled back up to the strip mall, he was on less than an eighth but he just had to make one more trip. His fingers stuck to the steering wheel, blood that was still drying covering his skin and he briefly wondered why he hadn't worn his gloves that day. The strip wasn't as abandoned, or was it really ever, when he entered the parking lot. A walker, more bone than flesh and barely standing was flinging itself against the pharmacy door but it had long lost the understanding of handles. 

It almost fell when it heard him park the car, Paul wasting no time getting out and plunging a knife into its skull. The door was still unlocked, of course, and the glass smeared with red that had drawn the walker. Paul paused as the door shut behind him, he had been there just over two hours before but it had been very different. 

Paul felt his knees go a weak as he looked over the floor, splatters of blood lining the linoleum and copper foot prints going out the door. Paul moved slowly as he crossed to the counter, everything was covered in blood more than he even noticed in the moment that Daryl had lost. On the counter top laid what the walker was truly after. 

Paul swallowed down the nausea and looked back to the floor. Spotting it quickly Paul hurried to snatch it up, the smell of iron in the air was too strong. Paul swung Daryl's crossbow onto his back and turned to leave when a glint caught his eye. He stopped but he didn't need to look to know what the early afternoon sun had caught. 

Paul stilled his nerves as he walked back to the counter. It was really just a hand and wrist objectively but Paul knew every centimeter of that appendage. He knew the thumb that had a habit of getting a hang nail, the little crook to the pinky and the bow string scars that lined the finger tips. Paul moved quickly, the ring thankfully not sticking like it usually did as Paul pulled it free. 

He had barely closed his hand around the silver when he turned and left the building. Paul slammed the car door behind him, taking a deep breath as he swallowed the rising bile again. The crossbow was carefully set in the passenger's seat as Paul started the car. Daryl's fingers were bigger than his but the ring fit on his right middle finger, just so it was safe he slipped it there. Paul wondered how fast he could get to Alexandria from there. 

\-------------------------- 

As promised Paul was back at Hilltop in just over an hour from leaving. The car running on fumes as he and an SUV pulled up to the gates. Rick, Michonne, Aaron, Carl and Judith were packed in the SUV. Tara had taken another car and headed for The Kingdom to get Carol then would head that way. Maggie was standing on the steps of Carson's trailer, Little Hershel in her arms having a bottle. 

"How is he?" Paul jumped out of the car as the others piled out too. 

Maggie eyed the bow as Paul swung it onto his back, she smiled at the scout, "He got a low-grade fever but it broke quickly, he's stable but he hasn't woken up or even moved much. Alex is cleaning him up now then we can go in." 

Paul sagged in relief, Daryl was still alright. Aaron caught Paul was his knees gave out, the last few hours finally all crashing down on him. Daryl was alive but would he be alright? Paul had seen plenty of people nowadays getting by with missing limbs but Daryl was so hands on in everything in life. Aaron and Rick were speaking but Paul couldn't really make out what they were say, all he heard was the trailer door open. 

Alex popped his head out, eyes locking on Paul's instantly and he smiled, "It looks like he might be coming around." 

Paul found his strength to stand up again. Daryl was alive, they could make everything alright for there. 

\--------------------- 

The following weeks were rough, to say the very least. Daryl had been a state of shock for three days after the bite, barely talking or even eating. By the fourth day he managed to mumble some responses to Carson and even let Paul and Carol hug him. He had flinched from touch the first few days, Carson explaining that it was normal after such a trauma. After a week Carson suggested Daryl go back to Alexandria, his healing would be more comfortable at home. Carol insisted she come and stay with them, at least until Daryl was better and Paul was agreeable to the idea. 

It wasn't until that first night back in their house right next door to Rick that Paul got a real up-close look at Daryl's arm. The wound had to be cleaned but Carson or Alex had insisted on doing it back at Hilltop, now Paul would be doing it. Daryl was still a bit sluggish, the pain killers dulling more than his severed nerves. It really wasn’t that bad of a sight but it would take some getting used to. 

Daryl still had most of his forearm, the amputation taking not much more than his hand and wrist. The skin was sewn together nicely, covering the bone where it had been cut. Carson did a good job of making it look, not good but not grizzly and ruined. The scar tissue would be thick but now it was still raw and pink, clearly painful as Paul cleaned it and covered it in ointment. It was just odd, for an arm to end when Paul had known the hand that once lay at the end. 

Daryl made a grunting noise in the back of his throat as Paul wrapped the stump back up. Paul hesitated, "Did I hurt you?" 

Daryl's eyes lulled to his, the older man falling back into the habit of avoiding eye contact. He held Paul's wide-eyed stare, like he was unsure how to answer before shaking his head, "It's jus weird, is all." 

"Weird?" Paul resumed in his wrapping, securing the bandage tightly. 

Daryl shrugged, looking down where Paul rested his hand on his elbow, "Still feels like it's there." 

Paul swallowed at the words, eyes burning as he felt Daryl's muscles flex like he was trying to make a fist. Carson had told them both that it would take Daryl's brain time to adjust, to unlearn his left hand and it would still think the appendage was there. Guilt was an ugly thing that had crept into their lives, Paul felt so guilty for what Daryl was going through. 

Daryl had been protecting Paul when he got bit, Paul had felt the walker's rancid breath on his throat before Daryl intervened. Paul knew they had to do what they did; a lost hand was better than a lost life. Paul should have been paying attention, Daryl shouldn’t have had to save him and the guilt was like a heavy weight in his stomach. 

Paul hated that he didn't know what to say and figured Daryl hadn't said it get a response, more to just vent what was in his head. Paul ran his thumb over the band that still sat on his right middle finger, he knew Daryl had noticed it there but hadn't asked for it back yet. Daryl didn't move when Paul leaned over and pressed a kiss to his scruffy jaw, mumbling into the skin for lack of anything else to say, "I love you." 

Daryl swallowed and nodded. Paul told himself not to be hurt by the silence but his heart ached anyway. 

\----------------------------------- 

Daryl wasn't always quiet, especially after he started wining off the morphine when the stitches and staple were removed. Daryl would fly off the handle, Carol saying it was like how he used to be back when they first met. His temper had never been great but now his fuse was nonexistent. So, when Paul and Carol heard a loud clatter from the back-yard Daryl had just walked out into, they both knew it wasn't going to be from anything good. 

"Babe?" Paul and Carol opened the back door, looking out just in time to see something go flying onto the back porch. 

They glanced at each other before looking down to see the crossbow coming to a skidding halt near their feet. Daryl was standing in the middle of the yard, fist balled up and head lowered so his bangs covered his flushed face. Paul bit his lip when he saw the bolts, a few lodged in the ground and one stuck in the fence when the tree in front of it was likely the target. 

"Daryl, why'd you throw your bow?" Paul moved to carefully pick it up. 

Paul had set it on the table by the front door after they came home, where Daryl had always kept it. The redneck had been eying it for days and finally seemed to get up the nerve to pick it up again. Paul saw that no damage had come to the weapon as Daryl snapped his head up at him. 

"Why'd ya even bring the damn thing back?" Daryl asked through clenched teeth, glaring so hard at Paul the younger man almost wanted to step back. 

Paul had gone back for it because that's what Daryl would've done, he wouldn't have left his bow. The man would have gone back if Paul had been the one bit and lost one of his blades. Their weapons meant a lot to both of them, Paul couldn't just leave the crossbow behind. When Paul hesitated to answer Daryl huffed and stomped across the yard and up the steps. 

"I can't use the fuckin' thing anymore, what good is it to me now?" Daryl seethed and Carol stepped forward putting her hand on his chest. 

"Calm down, Daryl." She whispered and Daryl cut his eyes at here before looking back at Paul. 

"Get rid of it, Paul, I ain't ever gonna need it again." Paul's fingers tightened on the bow and he could see the pain in Daryl's face at the words. 

Paul shook his head, "You will, you can use it, if you just-" 

"Jus what!? Regrow my hand?" Daryl lifted his arm, the abrupt cut of his forearm still wrapped as it continued to heal. 

Paul's mouth dropped, he had no words and Daryl's face instantly fell with regret. Paul looked at the stump as Daryl hastily put his arm down, the guilt burning up his throat like bile. Carol broke the heavy silence with an unhappy huff, "Daryl, go inside now and cool off!" 

Daryl ducked his head as he sheepishly stepped around Paul and went into the house. Carol ran her hand over Paul's back before hurrying in after the man. Paul stayed put, like his boots were cemented to the floor beneath them. Paul gripped the bow to his chest, he hadn't meant to hurt Daryl further. 

All they did was fight now or not fight, which was worse. They didn't speak anymore, it was like there was nothing to talk about. They would climb in bed at night and try to sleep, but new nightmares for both of them would usually have them up soon after. 

Daryl's were of the bite; the agony of his skin be ripped into by rotten teeth. The sharp than numb pain of the axe making his arm twitch even though in the moment he had held so steady. Daryl dreamt of dying, of the infection spreading too fast or the bite being too high. Worse even, in his sleep he was too slow and had to watch. Watch Paul's throat be ripped out because he didn't move in time. Those were the hardest nightmares, not that he told Paul any of that. 

Paul in his subconscious was stuck on the feeling of driving steel through flesh and bone. A task that had needed to be done but he been the hardest and equally easiest thing he had ever done. There was no way Paul would have let Daryl go so easily but sometimes in a dreamt, Paul couldn't save him. Mortally had never been so real, until watching a walker take a literal chunk of the person you love most. 

So, they weren't sleeping much and they sure weren't talking either. Paul tried to tell himself it was normal. They had been through something traumatic together and were still getting use to the outcome of it. Of course, things were going to be different but Paul was sacred to find out just how different as he held the weight of the bow in his hands. 

"Jesus?" Paul looked back when Carol said his name, her eyes bright with unshed tears. 

"I'm sorry," Paul shook his head when Carol shushed him and came to his side, "But I'm glad you're here. He is better with you here." 

Paul knew things would be worse without Carol's calming presence. She had known Daryl for so long, she knew how to handle him in way that made Paul jealous at times. Daryl didn't fight with her, doing as she said like it was second nature. 

"He doesn't mean to be so harsh," Paul knew that of course but hearing Carol say it did ease his heart a bit, "He just still needs time. We'll have the old Daryl back before we know it." 

Paul ran his finger over bow string, knowing he had to go retrieve the bolts soon. Paul's lip quivered as he voiced the question he didn't really want an answer to, "Will we?" 

Carol's silence at his side had Paul sighing as she took his hand and squeezed. 

\------------------------ 

Daryl stopped wrapping the wound after two more weeks, Carson telling him it needed air more now. Daryl didn't like looking at it though. He didn't hate it, not exactly but it wasn't great to look at either. Daryl ran his fingers over the stump, there were still times he could swear he felt his hand. It didn't hurt like it did, morphine swapped for ibuprofen for a few days now. Carol had left around the same time and Daryl missed her but he was glad to have some breathing room again, she did tend to hover. 

Daryl was sitting on his front porch steps and definitely not sulking. Paul had gone on a run with Rosita, he had declined at first but Daryl insisted he go. Daryl kicked himself, he had done more than insist, he had screamed for Paul to leave him the fuck alone for once. The ninja had looked so damn hurt but he steeled his face into a neutral expression and left with the Latina. 

Daryl knew he was being too short especially with Paul. It was stupid, being so mean to the person who saved his ass from infection. It was selfish, taking his unsure swirl of emotions out on Paul but he knew the man wouldn't leave him for it. Paul just let him say what he felt, even when he was saying things that he didn't mean. Not that it made it alright and Daryl knew that. 

Daryl sighed, poking at the scarring flesh that was once his arm when approaching steps made him look up. Carl smiled down at him, "You done having your temper tantrum?" 

Daryl grimaced, his face doing warm at the thought of how loud his voice at had been just an hour early at Paul, "Ya heard that?" 

"I think everything in a ten-mile radius heard that," Carl snickered as he sat next to Daryl on the step, "How are you doing?" 

Daryl shrugged as Carl's eye looked over the stump, "Getting by, I guess." 

Carl nodded, face full of understanding he was far too young for, "So, you blame Jesus, huh?" 

Daryl choked on the air in his lungs, eyes wide as he looked to see if Carl was screwing with him, "Fer what?" 

"Your arm, getting bit, take your pick." Carl shrugged at him and Daryl figured the kid had lost his mind. 

Carl had sat on his left side so he had to twist around a good bit to look directly at Daryl, since his only eye was on his left side as well. They stared at each other for a few long moments before Daryl exhaled, "Course I don't, damn Carl." 

Carl nodded before his eye narrowed at Daryl, "Then stop acting like it, stop being so damn mean to him." 

Daryl froze, it was different knowing you are being an ass and being called out on it. Daryl swallowed, he didn't have a defense for how he had been acting lately that didn't sound like whiney bullshit. Especially to a teenager with only one eye. 

When Daryl didn't speak Carl went on, "I know you lost a lot, trust me I get it. I get the anger, that's part of healing but Daryl, Jesus loves you so much and he's hurting too." 

"I know," Daryl sighed, "I jus, I don't know what to do now. I don't know how to make this work, ya know?" 

Daryl gestured to his arm and all that was missing there. Daryl could barely hold his bow now and aiming it had been a nightmare. Paul had put it back on the table by the door after Daryl's meltdown and there it still sat. How could he fight walkers now, fight people? 

"Oh, I do," Carl grinned as he patted the covered portion of his face and Daryl couldn't help but smile, "But can I tell you something and you have to swear to never tell my dad this." 

Daryl nodded and Carl leaned in like it was a huge secret, "There was this guy once, only had one hand kind of like you, but he was the toughest son of a bitch I ever met. Walkers didn't stand a chance and he used a rifle better than most two-handed people I've ever met." 

Daryl swallowed, chest going tight as Carl continued, "Losing his hand wasn't a disability to him, if anything it made him even more badass. So, I know you're going to figure this out, make it work because Merle did and you're even stronger than he was." 

Daryl blinked hard, Carl had wisdom he had no business having. Daryl swiped at his eyes to make the stinging go away before looping his arm around Carl's shoulders. The boy didn't even flinch from the mangled skin as Daryl tugged him to his side, "Thanks kid." 

Carl nodded, reaching to pat Daryl on the back before mumbling, "Still gotta be nicer to your husband too." 

"I will." Daryl meant it in every way. He would fix things with Paul and he would find a way to make everything work out. 

\------------------------------ 

"Paul!" 

Paul had barely got in the door having just got back from his run with Rosita when Daryl called out to him. His voice came from the back yard and Paul hurried through the house to find him. Paul paused as he got to the back porch, Daryl was standing in the middle of the yard with crudely made tragets stuck up on the fence and trees. 

Daryl had his bow slung on his back and gestured Paul over. Paul slowly crossed over to him, asking tentatively, "You're trying to use it again?" 

"Nope," Daryl saw Paul's face fall before he swung his bow down and held it out to Paul, "I'm teaching ya to use it." 

"Daryl, I can't..." Paul stared at the bow in awe but didn't take it. 

"I've tried all day but I can't shoot it anymore, it's got too much kick and reloading it is a bitch," Daryl grinned for the first time in ages and Paul's heart raced, "I figured I could give it to ya and ya could teach me more knife throws and some of them ninja moves. If ya wanna." 

Paul sniffled, not realizing he was crying until he was rubbing his sleeve over his face. Daryl raised his arm, like he wanted to cup Paul's cheek but forgot there was no hand there. Paul without missing a beat took the bow and put the strap over his shoulder as he stepped into Daryl's chest. Daryl wrapped his elbow around his neck, Paul smiling at the hold as he buried his hands in Daryl shirt front. 

"I want to, Daryl," Paul tilted his head up to kiss Dary's chin, "Anything you want, I do too." 

Daryl nodded and pressed his face into Paul's temple, "I love ya." 

Paul almost melted at the words, he hadn't heard them in so long, "I know, babe." 

Daryl leaned back, "So how about yer first lesson, Leia." 

Paul blinked twice before a smile broke over his face, "Who explained that reference to you?" 

Daryl snorted turning Paul to face one of the targets, "Why do ya think someone had to?" 

Paul pulled the bow off his shoulder with a smirk, "It was Eugene wasn't it." 

Daryl glared good naturedly as he positioned Paul's hands and footing. Daryl's hand paused on Paul's right one that was poised over the trigger. His thumb ran over the band on Paul's middle finger. He knew the band wouldn't fit any of his fingers on his right hand but he missed the feeling of the metal. 

"I bet Eugene could resize it, babe, if you want." Paul watched Daryl slowly nod. 

"Anything ya want, I do too." Daryl echoed making Paul beam and Daryl had to lean over. 

It felt like ages since Daryl had kissed him. His lips chapped and scruff scraping his beard just right. The peck turned into a longer kiss which got deeper making Paul lightheaded before Daryl pulled back. Daryl cleared his throat, face flushed in a way that made Paul's chest warm, "Okay, show me what ya got." 

Paul turned back to the target in front of him, aiming for the bullseye before pulling the trigger. Paul winced at the kick, holding on tight and watching the bolt sail way off course. It was barely in the last ring of the target and Paul grimaced up at Daryl, "Well, it's a start, right?" 

Daryl chuckled, nudging Paul with his left elbow, "Yeah, it is."


End file.
